


Righting the Pieces that Fall

by greatdisorder



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, M/M, Something like fluff, character injury, minor hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 17:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greatdisorder/pseuds/greatdisorder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After learning that Harry Potter nearly killed his best friend, Theo does the only thing he can think of that isn't seeking out a certain Gryffindor for revenge--Sneaking into the Hospital Wing to see that Draco is all right with his own eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Righting the Pieces that Fall

It was rare for the Slytherin common room to fall quiet. There was always some reason for noise—excited first years chattering away about how many spells the could cast correctly the first time around, older students getting into squabbles over who cheated at what game of Exploding Snap, girls delivering backhanded compliments to each other under the thin guise of something like friendship, but in the wake of Blaise’s words, the silence that fell over the room was so swift and so strong that even the awkward rustling of robes sounded blaringly loud.

“Potter did what?” Theo’s voice was quiet, painfully measured rather than the vaguely interested calm it usually held. His housemates glanced nervously at each other, shifting away from him with caution.Their movements went largely unnoticed by Theo as his eyes bore into Blaise’s as if wordlessly daring him to repeat what he had said.

Blaise watched Theo coolly, never breaking from his state of perpetually unruffled despite knowing better than anyone in the room the sort of storm brewing in the other boy. Blaise wasn’t scared of him, but this had nothing to do with his confidence that he could take Theo on in a duel or a fight or that he thought that Theo wouldn’t follow through with any threats—it was born purely of Blaise’s disinterest of the people around him, in not looking to start the fires or extinguish them when he’d rather feed them with information and linger to watch the destruction until his attention wandered again. “Potter attacked Draco with an unidentified dark curse that almost killed him.” He said again in a tone that suggested Theo should know better than to ask him to do so when he knew full well his words were clear. Pansy took that moment to burst into over exaggerated tears, wailing about her _darling Draco_ and Blaise’s lips pursed into the faintest line of irritation before he continued, “He’s going to be fine. Professor Snape found him in time to take him to Pomfrey.”

Most would think that Blaise was addressing the common room as a whole with his words, but his eyes never flickered away from Theo. Something shifted in them, the barest shadow crossing his features before his jaw seemed to tighten, chin lifting a fraction of an inch, and just like that his face was once more an unreadable mask.

Theo could barely hear him over the rushing in his ears, his mind reeling. He could still see it in his head, the moment Draco stood from the Slytherin table this evening after doing nothing more than push a bit of food around on his plate. He’d been eating less as the months wore on, not sleeping much better, and when Theo made to follow him the blond stopped him with an exhausted gaze and a barely-there shake of his head that Theo knew how to read: _Stay, please_ and Theo listened only out respect to his friends personal space, watching unhappily as the other boy slipped quietly from the hall.

Now he was laid up in the Hospital Wing with wounds that could have very well been fatal and Pansy was making noises like a dying Skrewt as she sobbed loud enough for the entire castle to hear and _no one_ was dealing with the main problem at hand because Harry fucking Potter was still shuffling around the school as if nothing he did could be faulted.

He didn’t realize he was on his feet until he found Blaise blocking his pathway out of the common room, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him uncertainly on either side. It was without the steadfast determination they used when doing Draco’s dirty work, casting Theo wary looks as they shifted uncomfortably, looking for all the world like they were ten seconds from letting Blaise fend for himself. For some reason, seeing them side with Blaise made Theo’s temper flare much worse than the simple fact that they were keeping him from leaving the room and he wanted to shout at them, wanted to demand to know where the hell they had been when Potter was doing Merlin-knew-what to their friend(even if Draco wasn’t and they were starting to really realize it, starting to feel that whatever Draco thought of them, it was on the same vein as what a predator thought of the harmless creatures left to clean up after its kill; unbothered, unworried, _uncaring_ ) but he held his tongue. If Draco wouldn’t let Theo slip along with him for whatever it is he had been looking to do, it was doubtful that Crabbe and Goyle would have had better luck.

Still, he couldn’t help the way his lip curled back, his eyes narrowed angrily . “Get out of my way, Zabini.” He snarled, ignoring the look Crabbe and Goyle shared with each other while Blaise stared him down. The other was barely two inches taller than Theo, but he seemed to find a way to double it, drawing himself up to his full height with a dark look of his own. “If you think that running out after Potter with your wand raised is a good idea, you’re more of an idiot than I ever gave your credit for.” His tone was low but firm, responding to thoughts that Theo never voiced but couldn’t deny .

Every eye in the room was on them, people holding their breath as they waited to see what would happen next and Pansy’s crying was only getting louder, the noise working its way up under his skin and Theo’s fingers twitched with the overwhelming urge to slap her. “Calm down, Nott.” Blaise urged, even softer yet, and Theo’s eyes refocused on him, his rage surging. He was as unafraid of Blaise as Blaise was of him, but there was no winning this fight. Instead Theo leveled the other a look that could ice over Hell before turning sharply on his heel, leaving whatever scathing comments he wanted to say on the tip of his tongue as he stalked towards the sixth year boys’ dormitory. The blowout may have been avoided but the slam of the door that echoed back through the hallway did nothing to ease the tension in the room.  
\--  
No one bothered to try and stop Theo when he slipped wordlessly through the common room hours later. It was getting late, edging towards curfew, but Theo made a beeline for the main door. This time, there was no Blaise or makeshift lackeys to block his way, though Theo could feel the heat of Zabini’s eyes burning into his back.

Without the chaos of students flitting from classroom to classroom, the quiet of the corridors was a little unsettling. Between the soft rustling of portraits shifting in their sleep and the long, strange shadows that the suits of armor cast in the moonlight, it almost didn’t feel like Hogwarts at all, like Theo had stepped through the looking glass into a twisted mirror of the place he felt more comfortable calling home than the manor that bore his family’s name. Navigating its hallways, proper light or no, was only a matter of pausing occasionally to listen for footsteps that warned of someone doing rounds coming close and keeping a light tread of his own.

The Hospital Wing was even quieter than the rest of the castle, Madame Pomfrey long since retired to her rooms, and it didn’t take more than a quick glance to realize that only one of the dozen or so beds held an occupant. For a moment Theo couldn’t do more than stand in the door, a frown tugging on his lips as he stared at the lump under the blankets. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find when he set his eyes on his friend, didn’t know if he was ready to see the damage Potter managed to do to Draco(the thought alone was leaving his anger was lingering just on the fringe of his control, held back only by his concern and Merlin, but wasn’t _that_ a new emotion to deal with when it was coming on this strongly). He took a breath, steeled himself, and stepped forward even more carefully before as if he was worried now of all times that a heavy foot would be his undoing.

Draco looked paler than Theo had ever seen him, his eyelashes standing out in stark contrast to his cheeks, and even the crisp white hospital sheets looked dull in comparison. It was _almost_ more worrying than the edge of bandages he could see peeking out from Draco’s blanket and Theo’s brow furrowed when he inched it back enough to see that Draco’s torso was wrapped neatly with thick gauze. 

Gauze that wasn’t quite as pristine as Theo would have liked to see it and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his curse silent as his eyes focused on the faint hints of red spotting through, trying not to think too hard on the kinds of wounds that would still be bleeding after the nurse had been tending to them. He was distracted enough that he nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand curled around his wrist and his gaze refocused on Draco’s face, startled brown eyes meeting exhausted grey. “Could warn a bloke before you go off grabbing hold of him.” Theo murmured finally, settling himself on the edge of the bed and shaking Draco’s hold off of him just enough to tangle their fingers together instead. 

Draco offered little more than an ‘mm’ in return, but Theo knew him well enough that little more was needed. A useful trick most of the time and absolutely vital for moments like this, where things were already hard enough to deal with without adding in a tangle of words to express everything they pretend they can’t feel. Instead, meanings were found not in words but in everything else—an entire conversation that could be held in near silence. The crease of Theo’s brow meant _I was worried_ , the squeeze of Draco’s fingers responding _I know_. 

“Thought you’d come and get a look for yourself, Nott?” The ghost of a smile on Draco’s lips, strained as it was, saying _Don’t be dense, I’m fine_.

“It’s not every day I hear that my idiot of a best friend has gone and landed himself in the Hospital Wing.” Theo’s frown deepening, the attempt at lightness failing as his voice wavered, _I could kill you myself, you prat_.

Draco sighed, shifting against his pillows with a badly disguised wince and he suddenly looked about five years older than he had when Theo saw him at dinner. “And with better reason that a Hippogriff could give, even.”

Theo shook his head, snorting softly. “Yeah, I’ll bet.” There was no humor to be had in the situation, although the attempt could be appreciated. “Go back to sleep, Draco. You can tell me all about it tomorrow.”

The blond looked like he was considering an argument, but either he was more exhausted than he looked(which was certainly saying something) or he was planning to save his energy for a lengthy explanation when the sun broke over the horizon because he rolled his eyes with a quiet huff before letting them slide shut. “I’m going to hold you to it.” His words were quieter this time than they had been before, sleep already creeping back into the cracks, and Draco managed one last squeeze to Theo’s hand, his hold staying firm and Theo didn’t need to think too hard to know what it meant: _Stay_.

Theo had no plans to do anything but listen.  
__

Theo hadn’t really intended on falling asleep in the Hospital Wing. He’d summoned over a chair sometime after Draco had fallen back asleep, sliding into its uncomfortable hard wood in hopes that it might keep him awake longer. It didn’t, clearly, because the next thing Theo was aware of was a warm hand on his shoulder that left him jerking up. It took a moment for the pieces to fit together, for his fuzzy brain to come up to speed with what had happened. Three things stood out clearly enough; First, somewhere along the course of the night, Theo had fallen asleep across a spare sliver of Draco’s bed, his head pillowed in the crook of his arm and sharp stiffness in his back to show for it. Second, Madame Pomfrey had seen him when she came in to do her usual early morning rounds and was probably going to give him quite an earful for sneaking into places he had no right to be. And third, his fingers were still tightly laced with Draco’s.

Bugger.

There was a small, desperate part of Theo that hoped she may have missed that small detail and Theo very reluctantly pulled his hand free as discreetly as possible before he stood to face her. He already had half a dozen excuses piling on his tongue to feed her and not a single one of them could hold steady against the look on her face. There was no anger or disappointment or hard exasperation at his lack of attention to rules. Instead, Theo found a sort of quiet sadness there that he didn’t know how to place when paired with the peculiar smile that made Theo think that she hadn’t missed a thing. His face heated despite his best efforts. “Madame Pomfrey—“

“No excuses,“ She said in a tone that made Theo think she was having a bit of a well-natured go at him before reaching out and smoothing his hair back from his forehead with the ease of someone who’d played mother to more children than she could count, effectively making Theo feel all of twelve years old again. She tilted his chin to get a better look at his face, clucking her tongue disapprovingly. “You need your sleep as much as your friend does, Mr Nott.”

“I—Yes, ma’am.” He mumbled, glancing away and shifting his weight uncomfortably between his feet like he might bolt at any second. “I was just going.”

“Of course you were, dearie. Go on, then. Out you get. If you’re lucky, you might manage a few more hours before breakfast.” 

Theo hesitated, unable to stop his gaze from flickering to Draco’s bed, and Pomfrey cut him off again before he could even manage a single word. “Mr Malfoy will be right where you left him and you two will have plenty of time to catch up during regular visiting hours.” Her voice left no room for argument and the implication, whether Theo was imagining it or not, that he and Draco had more to catch up on than just the story of what happened probably had him looking like he was victim of a particularly bad sunburn more than he’d like.

He cleared his throat, smoothing his hands down the front of his shirt as he took a step back from her. “Right. Of course. I, ah. Thank you, Madame Pomfrey,” he stuttered out and this time he _did_ bolt out of the room before he felt any more like finding a hole to crawl into, refusing to look behind him at the older woman as he headed for the Slytherin common room and hoping to Merlin that Draco slept through that entire exchange.


End file.
